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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24994933">the child of ash and magic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucky__barnez/pseuds/bucky__barnez'>bucky__barnez</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arthur Pendragon Has Magic (Merlin), Dialogue Heavy, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin and Morgana are bros, Minor Character Death, Post-Season/Series 03 AU, Romance, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:08:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24994933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucky__barnez/pseuds/bucky__barnez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When news of Arthur's illness reaches Merlin, he returns to Camelot after four years - risking execution for past, alleged crimes. He will do anything to protect Arthur, even if that means breaking his own heart in the process.</p><p>—or: the one where Arthur has magic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>trigger warning: mention of rape near the end. it does not involve merlin, arthur or any of the main characters. if this triggers you, please proceed with caution.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The air is misty and cold, this winter morning. The ground is littered with frost and fresh dew, making his horse-skin boots damp as he walks through the forest. It is not common for him to be out here so early - or at all, for that matter, but his Lord had asked him and whatever his Lord asks, he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The letter had come a week past by way of raven. How long the raven sat on the windowsill, pecking at the dirt-stained glass, he does not know. He had been hunting with his adopted sons, Elias and Matthias, and his wife was a village over helping a young woman give birth. It was near sundown when they had returned to their small cottage and Elias spotted the ebony feathered bird with the parchment tied to its leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He recognised the parchment from the moment he laid his eyes on it. Tied with a crimson red string with golden thread braided throughout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father,” Elias had said to him, “it has come from the capitol.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Elias, it has.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sent them away to warm themselves by the fire, and unpack their bags. A letter from the capital meant bad news and he would try to protect his children from the poison of politics for as long as he lived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were few words written and the letter had been sent hastily. The ink was smudged in several places, and the parchment itself was ripped at the sides. Despite this, the contents were as grave as he suspected they would be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has been deprived of his wife’s warmth and their goose down bed for two nights at his Lord’s request. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Search for them</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the letter had said, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>find them both. Bring them to me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no names mentioned, but he knows who to look for. He had met them once, when he was still a squire - Gods, how long ago that was. The Warlock had never been unkind to him, in the few times they ran into each other. The Witch, he knew even less, but she was a beauty. However, times had changed and they were the most dangerous fugitives in the five kingdoms. If his Lord requested he find them, he would do it with no questions asked. No matter how many days, or weeks, away from his family it requires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Lord had granted him leave four years ago to search for the Witch and the Warlock. It had been asked of him in the dead of night, within his very own chambers. His Lord had come in, shadow dancing in the candlelight, voice wrecked with grief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kay,” his Lord had said to him in a hushed whisper, “find him. I do not care how long it takes you. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every few months, in return, he sends his Lord his findings to put his heart at ease. He knows, however, that encountering them both and bringing them back to Camelot is what would truly heal him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud, thundering crash took Kay out of his reverie. Spinning, he unsheathes his blade from where it rested at his side. His heart thunders in his chest. Perhaps it was a tree falling but then, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it could not have been. A noise of that magnitude, it would have been a very large tree and he knows this forest like the back of his hand. There are no trees of that size here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ser!” a foreign voice bellows across the wood. “Ser, can you help me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kay hears the man approach before he sees him. Twigs and the like snap under the man’s boots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Kay does spot him, he fears him. The man is adorned in the purest of leather and rich fabrics, the likes only ever worn in the capitol. His hair is black and combed back with oil, and the edges lay just before his shoulders. He is smiling and Kay has never trusted a man who smiles at another wielding a sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t come any further,” Kay orders him and the man stops, smile faltering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean no harm, Ser,” says the man. “I am only here to request your assistance. You see, my horse has gone lame and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do you come from?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man takes a step closer. “I come from Camelot, kind Ser. I am a Lord there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mound, Ser. Lord Tylar Mound,” Lord Mound tells him. Kay frowns, he has never once heard of a Mound, not once and he grew up in the city. “It’s an old family, I confess. One that has been around since before King Uther’s father’s father stepped foot on the Earth that would one day be Camelot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kay shakes his head. “I would have heard of you, were that true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What need do I have to lie to you? I do not know you, nor you me. All I ask is that you help me,” says the Lord. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With what?” Kay asks. “What is a lord of Camelot doing here, in woods like these without a personal guard or knight beside him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Mound chuckles and steps closer to Kay. He sees a small dagger on the man’s belt, it is bejewelled and sparkles in the morning sun. This man is rich beyond belief. Whoever he is, be he Lord Mound or someone else, that much is clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You are clever, Ser. What is your name, might I ask.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want to know?” Kay grips his sword tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Mound laughs. “Why, you know mine. It is only fair that I know yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur,” he says and winces inwardly. Of all the bloody names in the kingdom... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ser Arthur?” the lord repeats. “After the king? Yes, you are younger than him. Many boys your age bear His Majesty’s name. Have you a last name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. And I’m no Ser. I’m a hunter,” Kay lies. “You still haven’t told me why a man of your status is wandering these woods.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Mound places a gloved hand over the bark of one of the pines and leans against it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am in search of someone. Ser Kay Malory, he goes by. Though, he was never knighted. He was the squire of His Majesty, once upon a time but has been missing for four years now. It has been suggested that he has been seen nearby here,” says the lord. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kay’s insides twist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want with a missing man?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that is my business and mine alone,” smiles the lord. “Have you seen him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I know no one by that name,” Kay swallows. He hears more underbrush shifting and before he knows it, he is surrounded by knights in polished armor donning the red capes of Camelot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>this man?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, Ser-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I am no Ser,” Kay grits his teeth. “I am a hunter. That is all. I don’t know the man you are looking for. I am merely hunting for deer to feed my wife and sons.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know. Andrivete, she was very lovely, though I didn’t bed her. Ser Guy, was she warm?” Lord Tylar Mound calls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knight with flaming hair atop his head barks a laugh, “Oh yes. Warmer and wetter than any bitch I’ve ever fucked.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kay feels fire in his veins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And his two sons, what of them, Ser Maleagant?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They squealed like pigs, my lord, when I slit their throats.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warm, angry tears fall from Kay’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why would you do that?” he shouts. “They were boys! And Andrivete… my wife. She had never hurt a fly. She didn’t even know that I-I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Mound finally stood before Kay, smiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you were asked by my nephew to find his manservant and his sister? Is that it?” asks the lord. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Your nephew?” Kay splutters. Tears now soaking his face and neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. King Arthur Pendragon. My nephew, you see. He has not been well as of late. His father’s untimely death has disturbed his mind and has him saying the strangest things.” The lord says as he paces around him. “Find both the Warlock and the Witch, he wrote to you, I understand. It would make sense, if he wanted revenge upon them both. They have both committed high treason and it is something we should not treat lightly. However, he would like them alive and brought into Camelot. No, that is what I do not understand. Why would he want to keep the man who killed his father alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin did not kill King Uther,” Kay says firmly. “He didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lord shakes his head and the knights burst into laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are all of his allies this stubborn?” the lord asks. “No. Merlin killed Uther with magic and was prepared to kill Arthur that very same night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Kay shouts. “Merlin would never hurt Arthur. I was there that night, not you. I saw Merlin cry and try to save the king. He tried everything, magic and non-magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ser Guy,” the lord calls and the flaming haired knight kicks Kay down onto his knees. A sharp, cold blade presses against his throat. He fears swallowing. “I am tired of this. I only have one more question, and I do need an honest answer, Kay. I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything but your life, in return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lord crouched in front of him, a strand of his oiled hair has come loose and frames his round face. Kay stares and so up close, he recognizes him. He had only seen him once, years before he had become squire or had ever stepped foot into the citadel. There was a tournament for Arthur’s name day, Uther invited his wife’s last living brother: Agravaine de Bois. He had been cruel to the servants and shared no apparent desire to be there. Kay remembers disliking him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to tell me where they are. I know you know, or else Arthur would not have sent you that letter,” Lord Agravaine speaks in a low voice. His spit coats Kay’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kill me,” Kay spits in return. “There is no life with my wife or sons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agravaine sighs and stands. Kay sees him nod his head and feels a smooth, clean cut across his throat. He collapses, choking on blood drowning in his lungs. The ground is no longer cool with frost, it is warm and dark with his life’s blood staining the Earth. He hears the knights laugh as he gargles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his vision fades, he sees Agravaine standing over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>update soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There is a cool spring breeze creeping through the worn stone walls as he rouses from his sleep. It is a welcome change, from the long cold mornings he had grown used to. His body still aches from the memory of the freezing forest floors and thread-worn blankets that gave no salvation on those long, cold nights. The feather bed he has now grown accustomed to is something he is thankful for, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small cottage he now considers home is hidden between large rock formations a mile or so from the oceanside. Its thatched roof and stone walls protects them from the perilous storms the ocean provides; but his magic helps with that, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he lays in his bed, he hears movement outside of his small bedroom. The distinct sound of a fire being tended to and a pot being filled with fresh water can be heard; he can tell she is trying to be quiet; for his sake, and the girl’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits up and pushes his quilt off of him before getting out of bed. He walks over to his window and opens it, letting the breeze ease in. It’s still early yet but the sun is shining, it reflects off of the rocks and onto the small garden they’ve been working on. Not much grows so close to the ocean but they manage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a soft knock on his door and he turns as it creaks open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s holding a cup in her right hand as she enters, steam pools from the top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” she says. “I made you tea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he takes it from her and drinks. The hot liquid glides down his throat: it’s mint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes a seat on his unmade bed and he watches her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s since foregone the knotted, messy hair he had grown used to seeing on her. Maybe it’s his influence that changed it. She had been used to inconsistency and chaos, and he had provided some normalcy to her life. She braids it now and ties it off with a blue ribbon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something is troubling her, though. He sees it on her face. Her brow is furrowed and her lips are pursed. She is also playing with the cuffs of her sleeves, another telltale sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up, surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morgana,” he says simply. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closes her eyes in resignation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a guest,” she sighs. “He’s outside waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns, “What do you mean a guest?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Showed up sometime last night and was outside when I went out to get water this morning,” she says as she stands up. “He’s still there. I thought you would want to deal with him. He was… quite surprised to see me. I don’t even know his name but he definitely knows mine—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t even let her finish her sentence before he’s out of his bedroom and crossing through the small kitchen. He throws open their front door and steps out into the garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tea falls to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Merlin,” Gwaine says from the ground, where Morgana tied him to a tree trunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine’s hair is shorter now and he’s let a short beard grow, but time has treated him well. He isn’t wearing his knight’s cloak, nor any piece of clothing that would indicate where he’s from. Nonetheless, Merlin’s heart aches at the sight of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin feels his knees go weak and he falls. His knees scrape through the fabric of his sleep trousers and in that moment, he realises he isn’t even wearing a shirt. Gods, Morgana, she could have at least told him to get changed before letting him run out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“G-Gwaine,” Merlin hears himself say. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine laughs and wets his lips. “Do you mind untying me first? Morgana, she - uh - didn’t take kindly to me being out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you surprised?” Morgana says from the doorway. “Answer his questions.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine glares at Morgana and spits in the other direction. “I’m here because I need to talk to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you find us?” Morgana interrupts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you shut your mouth for five fucking minutes so I can answer the questions you told me to answer?” Gwaine snaps at her. “I’m here to talk to Merlin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Merlin asks, finding his voice once more. “Why do you need me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine looks at him, emotion settling in his eyes. “It’s about Arthur. Merlin, he—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about him?” Morgana steps out of the house and Gwaine glares at her again. “Answer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morgana, stop interrupting him,” Merlin says quietly. He stands, ignoring the pain in his knees and goes to the tree trunk. He unties the rope around Gwaine and holds out a hand for Gwaine to take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine takes it and almost tackles him with how hard he hugs him. The knight shoves his face in Merlin’s neck and whispers softly: “I’ve bloody fucking missed you, Merlin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” Merlin replies and he means it. It’s been far too long since he’s seen Gwaine; four years to be exact. The last he had seen him, they had both been crying. They hadn’t even been able to say goodbye before Merlin was thrown into the Darkling Woods and banished from the kingdom that had been his home for over a decade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin pulls away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re seated around the kitchen table in Merlin and Morgana’s cottage. Morgana (begrudgingly) served Gwaine some mint tea, which he gulped gratefully. It is quite the journey from Camelot to their cottage, Merlin wonders how many days Gwaine has gone without something warm in his belly. He’s also been nibbling at the scones Merlin made the day before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” Morgana says expectantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine sighs and rests his hands on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur’s sick,” he begins. “He has been for a while but it’s been getting worse by the day. When I left, he was bedridden and I can’t even imagine the state he’s in now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin feels concern tickle up from his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of illness plagues him?” Morgana asks in his stead. “Can’t Gaius do something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe me, he’s tried,” Gwaine tells her. “It’s… it’s kind of like when, um, Uther got sick.” Merlin feels like he’s going to throw up. “It started after you left, Merlin. He was fine but like all of us, was upset. He didn’t attend Uther’s funeral, he wasn’t training with the knights… He just stayed inside, mostly in his room. Now, he doesn’t even talk to anyone. Sometimes Gwen but that’s because she’s the only one he lets in his room. His Uncle Agravaine is king in all but name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said when Merlin left,” Morgana pipes in. “He was banished. By Arthur, actually, so don’t twist that. He deserves it, if you ask me. As for Agravaine, you’re all idiots for letting that man have any power in court.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine clenches his jaw. “Well, I wasn’t asking you. You’re an idiot for thinking we had any say. When Arthur got sick, the closest relative that happened to be there was Agravaine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lower your voice,” Morgana hisses. “You’re being too loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin raises his hand, trying to calm them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine scoffs and shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gwaine says pointedly. “Before I left, Arthur started saying someone was breaking into his room. Fires were being lit in his room and he said things were going missing. He had to be moved into Uther’s old room for his own safety but whatever or whoever kept harassing him there, too.” He sighs. “No one was getting in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone must—” Morgana starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one. We had guards on every exit, including the knights. Every man we could trust was watching over him and the bed caught fire. Gaius had to treat Arthur for smoke inhalation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>how bad it got.” Gwaine looks wrecked. “We had thought about coming to find you for months but we didn’t think Arthur would want us to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What changed?” Morgana asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question hangs in the air for a minute or so. Gwaine looks like he’s battling something inside of himself and Merlin feels as if he’s about to pass out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Gwaine speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was Arthur, actually. He… he asked Gwen to find you. We waited, maybe two days, to see if he really meant it. And he did. He, um, he had a map of locations we might be able to find you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana looks at Merlin, dumbfounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before you ask, we don’t know where he even got it from. It was our best lead, so here I am,” Gwaine shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to see the map,” Merlin says, breaking his silence. Gwaine nods and rummages through his bag before placing a cloth before Merlin and Morgana. On it, is a badly drawn map of Albion. Most of it is hastily drawn and most locations aren’t even labeled. However, there are several spots marked with an X and written beside each one are their names as well as the date they were there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The earliest date is only a few months after his banishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone was following me,” his voice trembles. “I had no idea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoever wrote it, sent Arthur the map sometime before the winter. The last time you two were spotted was right before winter began. It was a bit risky coming all the way here when you might’ve already moved, but…” Gwaine trails off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin cannot even begin to fathom this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, he stands and leaves the house. He hears Gwaine call after him as he tries to get as much distance as he can. He weaves his way through the rocks and keeps walking until he can smell the salty ocean air. Soon enough, he is standing in the ocean up to his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of water has always brought him comfort. Before all of this, when he could still call Camelot his home, there was a spring nearby the city that he liked to frequent in his time off. Whenever he needed to clear his mind, he found himself by the spring listening to the water trickle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once, he sat there for almost an entire day. He was dozing off as the sun was setting when his peace was disturbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you’re probably the easiest person to track in all of Camelot? You’re not exactly sneaky, Merlin.” Arthur put his hands on his hips and let out a heavy sigh. “You can’t just leave without telling anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he had said. Merlin’s eyes never left the water, but in his periphery he saw Arthur sit down beside him. “Did you come here to take me back?” he’d asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Arthur said softly, taking Merlin’s hand in his. “I came here to make sure you were</span>
</p><p>
  <span>safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin laughs at the memory. Maybe he is easy to track after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a part of him that wants to drop everything and return to Camelot. He wants to take Arthur in his arms and murmur in his hair that everything will be okay. He can only imagine how scared and confused Arthur is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows what Arthur is going through. Merlin would have to be blind or stupid to not figure it out from Gwaine’s descriptions alone - he is sure Morgana is aware of it, too. He has so many questions. Most of all: how? How can Arthur be… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gaius must know. Out of everyone in Camelot, Gaius would know exactly what Arthur is suffering from and has been keeping it quiet for as long as he can. The physician is probably the one who suggested Gwaine search for Morgana and himself in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He aches for Arthur and the man he loved but he knows, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>he can’t go. If he did, he would be killed on sight - Arthur had made that much clear the night he banished him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Merlin, if you ever step foot into Camelot again, I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin sucks in a watery breath. That night still plagues his dreams and memories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By returning, he would pull the scabs from wounds that have only just started to heal. He would have to face his past and he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin!” Gwaine calls. Merlin doesn’t acknowledge his old friend until Gwaine has come up beside him, slightly out of breath. “You run fast, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s something you get good at being on the run,” Merlin replies. He sees Gwaine flinch and he feels a small ounce of regret. “Gwaine, I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gaius said you’re the most powerful warlock to have ever lived. He told us that for years you had been using your magic to save Arthur - to protect him, to protect all of Camelot,” the knight says. “None of us ever believed that you did what you did on purpose. Especially Gwen and I, we never doubted you. Not even for a moment.” Gwaine looks at him earnestly. “I don’t think Arthur did either. I think that he did what he had to do to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur had me thrown in the Darkling Woods and beaten,” Merlin interrupts harshly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waves crash on the shore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He banished me and had guards drag me from the city. Once they brought me far enough away, they beat me within an inch of my life because no one could hear my screaming. They thought I’d died and left me there.” Merlin folds his arms across his chest. “No one came to look for me. Not you, or Gwen, or even Arthur. Do you know who found me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine doesn’t answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morgana. Of all the people in the world, Morgana found me and took care of me.” Merlin laughs bitterly. “Did any of you even try to search for me afterwards? Or did you all just sit back and hope I was okay?” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t, for the record. I couldn’t go back to Ealdor because I didn’t want to put my mother at risk. I had to find a new home and I have, now you want me to go back and see all of the people who abandoned me when I needed them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strong wind blows and salty air overwhelms him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you think I felt when the man I loved ordered men to kill me?” He spits. “I protected </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I protected all of you and none of you even tried to do that for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Tears fill his eyes and he tries so hard not to let them fall, but he fails miserably. He falls into the water, it’s cold and it shocks him to his core. Gwaine crouches in the water beside him, wrapping his strong arms around Merlin’s leaner frame and holds him while he cries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he and Gwaine make it back to the cottage, Morgana is out front waiting. He’s sure Gwaine can’t tell but Morgana is relieved at his return. He makes a note in the back of his head to ask her about it later. He wonders though, did she think he left?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can stay the night,” Merlin tells Gwaine. “I don’t know if Morgana will let you stay any longer than one night.” Gwaine nods, looks dejected. “You have to understand why I can’t go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” the knight says. “I just wish things were different.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin can agree with that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure about me staying the night, though? Morgana she… doesn’t look very enthusiastic.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin grins, “She’s protective.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of you?” Gwaine frowns. “But you’re stronger than she is. Aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, but it’s not about me. It’s more for—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A young girl runs out of the cottage, sleep still evident in her eyes. She runs past Morgana and through the garden until she’s hugging Merlin’s legs. Gwaine stares, bewildered, as Merlin picks the girl up and holds her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aoife,” Merlin says, “did we wake you earlier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aoife shakes her head. “I woke up by myself. ‘Gana said you were by the ocean with a friend.” Aoife looks at Gwaine curiously, “Hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi sweetheart,” Gwaine says and Merlin almost rolls his eyes. Of course he’s trying to be the charmer right now. If Merlin has learned anything from knowing Gwaine, when the knight is out of his element, he tries to charm his way out of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go eat something, Aoife,” Merlin places her back on the ground. “Maybe one of those scones? Morgana can heat it up for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aoife says, “I can do it. I’ve been practising before bedtime. Watch!” The young girl places her palm upwards and flames sprout from the skin. Merlin feels a cool chill run down his spine as he sees realisation wash over Gwaine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oblivious, Aoife runs back into the house. Morgana stares at Gwaine for a second as if daring him to say something, before following the girl inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s yours then?” Gwaine asks. “She’s magic, like you and Morgana.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Merlin almost laughs. “No. Morgana and I—no, Gwaine. She’s… We found her a few months ago, her mother was dead and she had magic. We couldn’t leave her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine’s brow raised. “Surprised Morgana let you bring her back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was her idea, actually,” Merlin says. “Do you mind if we go inside? I want to change out of my wet clothes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They head inside and Merlin makes a beeline to his room. He shuts the door and takes in a shuddering breath. Gods, what a morning. He looks to his wardrobe and clothes come gliding out; a red tunic, trousers and a dry set of leather boots. All of which had been taken from people who had crossed him and Morgana over the years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s made his peace with it. Have to survive somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he’s changed, out of habit, he goes to close the wardrobe door without his magic and sees a crimson red neckerchief with golden stitching hanging on one of the hooks. Emotion runs through him and he slams the doors shut, almost breaking the hinges in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine and Aoife are quietly talking when Merlin leaves his room. Morgana has their back to them, surprisingly, cutting some vegetables for the soup they were planning on having for dinner. There’s a flower in Aoife’s hair, one from the small vase in the center of the table; Gwaine had to have put it there from the way Aoife is beaming up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife’s hair is dark and curly; Morgana often calls her ‘Little Dandelion’ for the way it moves, one large gust could blow it all away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They found her while tracking a slave trader who was rumoured to have taken magic users. Everyone who knew the trade was aware that there was no way they were going to be anything but sex slaves for powerful men in court - sometimes, even in Camelot. When they found the trader, he killed Aoife’s mother right in front of them and Aoife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d said: “No one would want to fuck her used cunt, anyway. Her daughter on the other hand, nice and exotic don’t you think?” and he’d grabbed Aoife by her hair and held her up for them to see. She was naked and crying, her tanned skin was littered in scratches and cuts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana killed him without a moment’s hesitation. Merlin burned his body while Morgana comforted her and wrapped her in Merlin’s cloak. They found out a few days later that Aoife was one of the few in the trade that had magic. Since then, they’ve been helping her learn how to control it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin wants to do right by her. He can’t leave and go back to Camelot without knowing if she or Morgana are okay. It wouldn’t be right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spend the rest of the day in mostly silence. Merlins shows Gwaine around the area and Gwaine helps him tend to their garden, giving some advice here and there. When the sun starts to set, they go inside for dinner and Gwaine eats three helpings of the vegetable soup Morgana prepared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife for the most part is the only one that talks. She prattles on about what spells she’s been practising and the animals she spots on her walks with Merlin when the weather is okay in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s in the middle of discussing a squirrel she saw when she stops and reaches out, touching Gwaine’s hand. “Are you sad because your friend is magic?” Aoife says out of the blue and the three adults in the room go frigid. Aoife is looking at Gwaine expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine turns to Merlin, “What is she talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your friend,” Aoife repeats. “The one you left to come here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin…” Gwaine is afraid, his voice is trembling. Merlin’s never heard it like that before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aoife,” Morgana says softly. “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re all worried about him,” Aoife pouts. “I can hear you. Gwaine is worried he’s been gone too long. Merlin’s worried about his magic. If you’re all so worried, why don’t you just go back? If you do, can I come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin makes eye contact with Morgana. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana kneels next to the girl, “What do you mean you can hear us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl shrugs nonchalantly, “I hear you all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did she mean by the magic?” Gwaine asks, voice still trembling. “Arthur, he—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin talks about him so much.” Aoife smiles and Merlin feels like he’s just been punched in the gut. “He’s worried though, that he’s not making the right choice. I think if you love someone, you should go be with them. Mama and I were taken when we were looking for my Papa, because I could hear him hurting and Mama was worried.” Aoife sighs. “Can I have a scone now? I ate my soup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana pets her hair, “Of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin can’t speak. His heart is in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine looks like he might pass out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without warning, Aoife screams and falls to the floor convulsing. Merlin is over there in an instant, rolling her onto her side. He can only see the whites of her eyes as she continues screaming; tears stream down her face and she clutches at her stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it? What’s wrong?” Morgana asks the girl, panicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re hurting him! It hurts so bad! Make it stop! Merlin, please!” Aoife cries. “They know! They know about him and they’re hurting him! He just wants it to stop!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aoife, breathe, you’re okay,” Merlin tells her. Gwaine comes beside him and places a cushion beneath her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“NO!” Aoife grabs at Merlin’s face, her nails scratching down his skin. “Why didn’t you go back? He wouldn’t have hurt you! He wouldn’t—AH!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife’s eyes glow gold and the cottage falls around them. </span>
</p><p>***</p><p>***</p><p>***</p><p>
  <span>A month later, they reach Camelot. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aoife is pronounced "Ee-fa", or like Tifa without the T. </p><p>Expect Part Two soon. Please let me know what you think! I live off of feedback.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>finished this at 3am. pls let me know of any mistakes so i can fix them.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His hair is golden like the afternoon sun in the summer in the darkness of the room. It points in all directions as though he’s been asleep for several hours, and not just one. His face is half hidden by the navy blue blankets; it’s relaxed, more relaxed than it has been for years - at least when he’s awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s been watching him for a while from across the room where she’d been ‘cleaning’ his desk. She watched as his chest rose, waiting for it to slow until it was barely noticeable from how far away she was. She feels as though she needs to make sure he falls asleep for her own peace of mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She creeps closer to the bed and is careful to brush her fingers through his hair lightly. Leaning down over him, she kisses his forehead and his face furrows. He nuzzles his goose down pillow, before rolling over with his back to her. Gwen whispers a quiet ‘good night, Arthur’ before grabbing his laundry from a pile on the floor and tiptoeing out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guards outside the door bid her a good night and she waits until they’ve locked the door securely after her, before making her way to the laundry room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At night, the Citadel is almost silent. The only noise is that of guards’ armour clanking against the stone floors during their rounds, and the soft toed shoes of servants finishing up their duties before retiring to their homes. It’s so late that Gwen is sure she is among the few still awake; in the past she would’ve been upset, having missed out on spending time with her friends after the sun goes down. But now, she prefers watching over Arthur than anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen turns into the laundry room; there’s only one other in the room. The chambermaid is hunched over a barrel of water, scrubbing at a wine stained nightshirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He fancied a goblet of wine tonight, did he?” Gwen says to the woman. She places Arthur’s clothes down beside her, and grabs her own barrel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of all the drinks he could’ve had. Why can’t he drink mead like the rest of the bloody drunks in the kingdom?” the chambermaid laughs. “King Arthur prefers wine too, doesn’t he? Must run in the family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur does prefer wine but isn’t a clumsy fool. That’s the fourth nightshirt this month, isn’t it?” Gwen sits down next to her and begins wetting Arthur’s clothes in the barrel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seventh, actually. You missed some of them because I had to clean them in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>morning</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The chambermaid scrubs bitterly. “I’d much rather wait on the king than Lord Agravaine. My lordship spends so much time reading in his chambers, I never have time to just work on my own. I used to hum, you know? Now I can’t because it disturbs him.” She scrubs harder. “He’s a right prick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daisy,” Gwen sighs, “Arthur is a lot to take care of, too. Lord Agravaine, while he’s insufferable most days, has done well to keep the kingdom running while Arthur recovers.” The words left a bad taste on Gwen’s tongue; she knows better than to speak ill of Arthur’s uncle within the walls of the citadel. “And you should be careful, Daisy,” Gwen warns. “Anyone could be listening. It’s dangerous to talk like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy was hired a few weeks after Lord Agravaine arrived in the city. Gwen had warmed up to her quickly, she was witty and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. They grew to be good friends, often finding each other in the halls to share gossip or talk about their days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is good to talk to someone, even briefly, when the rest of Gwen’s day is spent serving a man who never speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy shrugs, “The worst he could do is fire me, and honestly, I’d probably be better off. I’d go find a nice farmer and shack up with him. Have four babies and die at the ripe age of 37.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen has to cover her mouth to quiet the laughter bubbling out of her. Daisy grins at her and winks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Daisy reminds Gwen of Gwaine and it sobers her. It’s been two months since Gwaine left and they’ve had no word; she’s tried to be optimistic but as more days pass… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Daisy nudges her lightly. “It’s getting late. Pass me some of the king’s clothes, I’ll wash some of them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do that,” Gwen tells her and Daisy scoffs. The chambermaid stands and grabs the clothes herself. “Daisy—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said it yourself, looking after King Arthur is tough - you deserve a good night’s sleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later, Gwen and Daisy are walking down the steps of the citadel. The chambermaid lives above the Tailor’s shop, along with four other women including the tailor herself. Gwen is envious of her, sometimes, when Daisy goes on about something one of her roommates did - when Gwen herself lives alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The loneliness gets to her sometimes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright walking the rest of the way home?” Daisy asks as they approach the Tailor’s shop. Gwen can hear Daisy’s roommates laughing on the second floor, likely patiently waiting for Daisy to arrive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Gwen lies, “I’m fine. Have a good sleep, Daisy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, too, Gwen.” Daisy waves goodbye before heading into the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen doesn’t wait, afraid she’ll hear Daisy’s roommates greet the chambermaid loudly upon her entrance. The loneliness will eat her up even more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of her walk home is quiet. The moon hangs heavy in the sky and on any other night, she would say it is beautiful. A fell wind blows through the long, tangled streets of the inner city. Gwen pulls her shawl tighter around her and tries to ignore the gnawing feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the moment she had woken up that morning, something had shifted in the air. She dreaded entering Arthur’s bedchambers, out of fear something had happened to him. Instead, Arthur was standing by his windows, staring out into the courtyard like he had done every day since Gwaine had left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen has considered that her sense of dread has come from Gwaine’s long journey. She had expected him to be gone for a few weeks at most, but two months? What if he fell and broke his leg? What if he was ambushed and killed? They would never know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps he has found what he was looking for, what they’ve all been looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s banishment is still something that haunts her dreams. She was there when it happened, when Merlin killed King Uther. And she was there when Arthur held a sword to Merlin’s throat and told him to leave; she heard Merlin’s sobs as he begged Arthur to change his mind, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but Arthur was crying himself. So was Gwen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should execute you where you stand for killing my father.” The blade had shaked in Arthur’s hand. “You are—You are hereby banished from Camelot. For harbouring magic and for the assassination of the king.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had to hold Gwaine back when Merlin was taken away; his tears had turned to anger. If Leon hadn’t shown up to help her, Gwaine would’ve done something he’d regret. She isn’t sure if he has ever gotten over Arthur’s decision that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine’s presence has been sorely missed in Camelot. He is a beacon of light amidst the darkness that has befallen Arthur and the kingdom as a whole. He tried to make everyone smile and cheer them up, most of all during Arthur’s especially nastier moods. Now without Gwaine, there is no relief from Arthur’s attitude. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t blame Arthur for it. Gwen understands better than most what Arthur is going through. She sees Arthur the most, in the mornings when he’s uncharacteristically quiet and during midday when his mood grows foul, then at night when he refuses to eat his dinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t eat, nor does he sleep. He’s lost so much weight, Gwen fears for his health despite Gaius saying Arthur is still relatively healthy. The bags under Arthur’s eyes tell her otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen sighs and turns the corner that leads to her house. The lanterns that are usually lit along the cobblestone street have been blown out; she shivers. The wind is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reaches discreetly into her apron, grabbing a small knife she keeps on her. If someone is nearby, she doesn’t want them to know she’s armed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, she pushes open her door and steps into the dark space. She closes the door behind her and hurries to light a candle on her dining table, when the wick lights itself. Gwen gasps and drops the candle, letting the wax roll across the table before it falls on the floor with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fear strikes into her chest and she clutches the small knife in her hand, letting the wooden handle dig into the skin of her palm. She hears footsteps nearby and the shuffling of fabrics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An arm reaches around her and covers her mouth, muffling her scream. A pair of lips brush past her ear and she hears, “Don’t scream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her chest lurches and she pushes away, spinning around almost violently. Before her, illuminated by the candle that fell, is Merlin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Gwen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing she notices about him is how little he’s changed. He has filled out a bit, he carries more muscle than he had when he was living in Camelot. She notices it in his arms and his chest, and most of all his jaw. There’s a slight curl to his hair but he’s kept it short, and is still so very Merlin. She mourns for the years of friendship they lost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tears up, “Oh, Merlin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hugs her, holding her close against him. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m sorry I haven’t come back sooner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen pushes him away and punches his arm. “You idiot!” She punches him again. “How dare you apologise? How are you even here? Did Gwaine find you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs and rubs his arm, pouting, “If you stop punching me I’ll tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She punches him one more time for good measure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit around her table, only daring to light one more candle to not draw attention so late. Her home gave them a false sense of security. The city watch is always nearby, listening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have much time,” Merlin admits. “I shouldn’t even be here but I wanted to see you first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Gwen asks. “Gwaine found you, right? Where is he? Is he okay? Did he tell you about Arthur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin fidgets, “Yes. Gwaine found us and brought us back, but he’s still not back. I mean, he’s outside the city, in the woods. We thought it’d be better if he stayed out in the woods until the morning, so it doesn’t wake Arthur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen almost laughs, “It wouldn’t have been an issue… Arthur would have welcomed his return—Wait, you said us.” He flinches. “Merlin, what is going on? Who is with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to answer but whatever he was going to say dies in his throat as the distinct sound of armor on the street fills the small space. It is only the city watch but it strikes fear into them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wait for the sound of armor and chainmail to quiet, and breathe a sigh of relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really shouldn’t be here,” Merlin whispers harshly. “I just, I need you to do something for me. I know we haven’t seen in each other in years but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it you need doing?” Gwen asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s smile is fleeting. He turns to Gwen’s bed, still hidden in the night’s darkness. Gwen hears fabric shifting and a small girl emerges from the shadow. She doesn’t look any older than six, she looks exhausted and in need of a warm meal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hello,” Gwen says softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you take care of her for me?” Merlin asks of her. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we can’t keep an eye on her. It’s too dangerous for her to be out in the woods and I know you’ll protect her.” Merlin sucks in a nervous breath. “Her name is Aoife, she’s…” he gulps. “She’s magic.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen feels anxiety rush through her. She’s seen so many people hung and burnt at the stake for harbouring magic users, but this is a little girl - not some criminal. She reminds herself that people born with magic aren’t automatically criminals, it’s what they do with it that matters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen?” Merlin starts carefully. “Is this okay? If it’s not, I can go to Gaius’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Gwen says firmly. “It’d be too dangerous to bring her into the citadel. Gaius has an apprentice, his name is Aldwyn, he’s nice but I don’t know if…” Merlin almost looks hurt at the mention of a new apprentice and Gwen feels terrible for bringing it up. “I’ll take care of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin?” the little girl rubs her eyes some more. “Can I go back to sleep?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a moment, love,” Merlin says softly to her. He kneels down to reach her eyes and pets her hair softly. “This is Gwen, she’s a friend. Whatever she tells you to do, you do it okay?” Aoife nods sleepily and she pads back over towards Gwen’s bed. There’s a pile of blankets on the floor next to the bed and Aoife curls up on top of them. Almost instantly, she goes still with sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen has a million questions, the most prominent: who is she? She is too old to be Merlin’s daughter, but the way that he cares for her, the love on his face when he sees her, perhaps the girl looks older than she is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin stands back up and looks at Gwen. She is struck by his eyes, they were once so lively, so full of mirth and joy, now they look like… They look like Arthur’s. Arthur and Merlin had always been a reflection of one another; if Merlin was upset, Arthur mirrored him, and vice versa. How could it be that it is still the same, when they haven’t seen each other for years?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go,” he says and starts for the door. With his hand on the handle, he looks back at her. “Tomorrow morning, go to Gaius and tell him you’re sick. Whether or not he believes you doesn’t matter, you just need to get out of taking care of Arthur. Can you do that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, she is overwhelmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I can’t just not go to Arthur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin chuckles, “Gwen, Arthur can take care of himself for a few hours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen shakes her head. “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation, Merlin. Arthur isn’t the same man he was before you left. Most days he doesn’t get out of bed even if he’s been awake for hours. He barely even eats.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin turns the doorknob and the candle on the table blows out with a quick glow in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Arthur isn’t the man I thought he was. Being beaten with an inch of your life really changes your viewpoint on someone,” he says and it’s like a slap in the face. Gwen blinks wildly. “I want to make it clear I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for you and Gwaine, and for Camelot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves without another word, the wind from the door slamming chills Gwen to the bone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t let herself cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She readies for bed in the dark. Gwen toes off her dove skin slippers before making her way towards her little mattress; and finds the small girl, curled up in a ball on the sheets on the stone floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a chill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen sleeps that night without a blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Come the morning, Gwen does as Merlin asked. She makes her way to Gaius’s before the sun finishes rising over the rooftops. Spring dew covers the cobblestones and the sweet scent of spring is in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife was still asleep when Gwen left her house. She is fretful about leaving the girl alone; no one has any reason to go into Gwen’s house but what if someone did and they found Aoife? The girl might be spooked, and what if she casts her magic?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen quickens her pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once at Gaius’s, she knocks on the door before pushing it open. The old door creaks on its hinges. She pokes her head in and calls out, “Gaius?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are candles lit around the physicians quarters and Gwen spots his apprentice, Aldwyn eating from a bowl of porridge. He raises his head sleepily at the sound of Gwen’s voice and he smiles immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She goes to greet him but remembers, and coughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aldwyn’s smile falters. He’s a tall, lean man, nearing his twenties. When Gaius took him as his apprentice, he was even leaner and more gangly. Kind of like Merlin when he first came to Camelot. There’s something charming about him, sometimes his smile reminds Gwen of Lancelot. Kind and selfless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” he stands up and jogs across the room to her. He takes her hand and pulls her in. Aldwyn sits her down and the palm of his hand covers her forehead. “You’re warm,” Aldwyn mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen warmed a wet cloth over her fire and pressed it against her forehead. This isn’t her first time faking sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aldwyn jumps away from her and goes to Gaius’s potions. She watches him as he looks through the viles, most are filled with dull liquids and some with vibrant colours. Aldwyn chooses one of the dull and brings it to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might just be a cold,” Aldwyn tells her. “Your eyes are a bit glassy. Have you an appetite? Chills? A cough?” Gwen stifles a cough and Aldwyn frowns. “Yes. I think this potion will do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She coughs again. “Not that I don’t mind you helping me, Aldwyn, but where is Gaius?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you would’ve heard by now.” Aldwyn dabs her forehead with a cool, wet cloth as he speaks. “Ser Gwaine returned in the night. Ser Leon arrived about an hour ago to get Gaius to look over him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s stomach turns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-Is he alright?” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so,” Aldwyn tells her. “Gaius didn’t say much. He just woke me up, told me there was porridge on the table and he left. You and Ser Gwaine are close, I swore you would have found out before me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen nods and thinks quickly on her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I wasn’t feeling well last night and told them to not wake me. I haven’t—I’m still not feeling well. They didn’t want to wake me,” she lies through her teeth. “I should go rest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aldwyn’s frown deepens. “Maybe you should stay here until Gaius returns. You look faint.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine to walk back home,” she says. She stands up and Aldwyn holds onto her elbow as he leads her to the door. “Thank you, Aldwyn. I appreciate your help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am going to walk you home,” he says. “I would not forgive myself if you were to faint and I had just let you go. Let me put on my boots.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen panics. When Aldwyn turns his back to her to grab his boots near the table, she leaves and ignores his shouts after her. She runs down the corridor and the rest of the way back home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushes open her door and slams it closed behind her. Gwen’s breath is coming out in short, heavy huffs. She shouldn’t have done that. Aldwyn will come looking for her to make sure she’s okay. Her eyes fall shut and she tries to calm down. If he does come, she needs to be calm and ready for his questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s eyes snap open and she spots Aoife sitting at the table. A half eaten apple sits on the table in front of the girl, her face is sticky with its juices. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Gwen says automatically. “I wasn’t here when you woke up. You must’ve been frightened.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aoife says. “It’s safe here, Merlin said so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen walks over to the basin of water and scoops some before splashing her face. She is hyper-aware of Aoife watching her. She hears the crunch of the apple being bitten into and the chewing sounds that follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin was very happy to see you,” Aoife says. “He was worried that you wouldn’t be happy to see him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen looks back at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s reminded of his words last night. That what he is doing is not for Arthur, but for her and Gwaine, and for the entire kingdom. That he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>beaten</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that Arthur did it. He has to be mistaken because that couldn’t have happened. Arthur wouldn’t have. Gwen was there with him and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>Arthur, he wouldn’t do that to Merlin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife finishes the apple and places the core down on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He missed it here, too,” Aoife continues. “He liked our home but he likes this place more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you… meet Merlin?” Gwen asks carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sits down across the table from the girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mama and me got taken by a bad man, and he hurt her real bad. Merlin and…” Aoife clears her throat, “Merlin saved me and took me away from the bad man,” Aoife explains. Gwen raises her eyebrow and thinks to herself that there is something missing from the girl’s story. “Merlin’s been helping me with my magic,” Aoife goes on. “Would you like to see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen smiles at Aoife’s naivety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would but it’s not safe here,” Gwen says. “Someone might see.” Aoife blinks and deflates. “When it’s safe to, I’d love to see what you can do,” Gwen quickly adds. Aoife’s face returns to its lighthearted glee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the morning, Aoife prattles on about mundane things. Gwen learns that there is a garden outside Aoife and Merlin’s home, they were growing carrots and cabbages when they left. Aoife is quite worried about them being rotten when they return but Merlin had reassured her that the rain will keep them nourished. Still, the girl seems skeptical. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen prepared Aoife a real breakfast to fill her stomach up, something the girl looks as if she is in dire need of. She had salted beef and some vegetables in her house, so she warmed the beef and fried the vegetables in a pan. As she suspected, Aoife gobbled it up almost as soon as her plate hit the wood of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife tells her about Gwaine finding them. From the sound of it, Aoife has a tiny crush on the knight and Gwen finds it utterly adorable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is nearing noon when Aoife’s stories are cut off by the shrill sound of the city bells ringing frantically. Gwen jumps to her feet and peers through the cracks in her door; people are running and shouting  in the direction of the citadel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aoife,” she says, voice trembling slightly. “Crawl under my bed and stay there until I tell you it’s okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife hesitates but jumps from her seat and dives under the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen continues looking through the cracks when the door is pushed open and she stumbles backwards into the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen!” it’s Daisy. Her cheeks are flushed and looks as if she had sprinted the whole way from the citadel. “It’s—” she sucks in a deep breath. “It’s Merlin. He’s back. He walked right into the citadel and the throne room. Lord Agravaine and the counsel were all speaking, and he just! He walked in!” She doesn’t look scared, in fact, she’s smiling. “Oh, Gwen, you should’ve seen Agravaine’s face!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen’s heart hammers against her ribcage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Arthur know?” Gwen asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. It’s chaos. I knew you’d want to know—” Gwen doesn’t hear the rest of Daisy’s sentence. She grabs her cloak from where she left it the night before and throws it on. She turns to Daisy, knowing she shouldn’t do this, but she has no other choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stay here, Daisy?” Gwen asks her friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chambermaid looks taken aback. “What? What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… stay here. Make sure no one comes in.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or goes out</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I know it sounds silly, but I need to make sure Arthur’s okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy stares at her for a moment before nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I will. Go.” Daisy says and Gwen hugs her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she goes through the door, she spares a glance to her bed. Aoife is still beneath the frame; watching Gwen as she leaves. Gwen prays to the Gods that Aoife stays put, she doesn’t know how she’ll explain a child hiding beneath her bed to Daisy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She runs through the crowd still making its way to the citadel. It’s as if the entire city is going, all desperate to catch a glimpse of the man who killed King Uther. The city watch is doing a terrible job of keeping the crowd under control. The bells are stilling ringing and people are shouting. Gwen overhears some people saying that Merlin has returned to end the Pendragon line once and for all. Others say that it’s not Merlin at all, and that it’s Morgana. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen feels a chill run down her spine after she hears it. She knows they’re wrong but the thought of Morgana being here, in Camelot, frightens her to the core. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weaving her way through the crowd, Gwen finally makes it up the stairs to the citadel and one of Lord Agravaine’s knights stops her from entering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one is permitted in,” he says in a gruff voice. His name is Maleagant, but Gwen’s heard others call him Mal. He’s a big, cruel looking man with thick black hair covering every visible inch of his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Guinevere, King Arthur’s servant,” she tells him. He looks her up and down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long, </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span>, moment, Mal grunts and lets her in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Compared to the city, the citadel is dead silent. It is so quiet, Gwen can hear her blood pounding through her. She makes her way up to the throne room, not running into a single person. As she grows closer to the throne room, the beginnings of a man’s voice shouting can be heard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knows it immediately. Lord Agravaine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crowd of servants, guards and knights alike flood outside of the throne room. All craning their heads to look into the room where Lord Agravaine’s voice is booming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—dare you return?! You disgusting, vile creature!” his screams echo against the stone walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen tries to push her way in and gets pushed back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoulda gotten here earlier,” a stableboy says to her. “First come, first serve.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friend kicks his shin. “That’s Guinevere, you idiot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stableboy apologises and lets her pass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are sentenced to death! By order of the king!”  Lord Agravaine shouts at Merlin, as Gwen finally breaks free of the crowd at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Agravaine is standing in front of Arthur’s throne. His face is red with anger, sweat drips from his brow and he’s pointing a fat finger at the center of the room: at Merlin. Gwen can only see Merlin’s back, but he doesn’t look perturbed at all. In fact, he looks bored. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As far as I can tell, he’s not even here.” Merlin says calmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of Lord Agravaine’s knights hisses and takes a step towards Merlin, unsheathing hsi sword while he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re really going to try and kill me?” Merlin says to the knight. “You take one step closer,” Merlin raises his left hand and wiggles his fingers. Gwen can see Lord Agravaine gulp from all the way across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen looks around the room and sees Gwaine, his hand hovers his sword in its hilt. Leon and Elyan are nearby him, doing the same. The rest of Lord Agravaine’s knights mirror them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you threatening me?!” Lord Agravaine booms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know who you are,” Merlin says. “Where’s Arthur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Lord Agravaine spits. “First you kill his father, now you’re here to kill him too.” He laughs. “He banished you. The only way he’d want to see you is dead on a fiery pyke.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen hears murmurs behind her and the sound of boots shifting against the stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah he’d love that,” Merlin says dryly. “Does he know you’ve been sitting on his throne? Or are you not telling him how much you’re taking advantage of him? No, of course not.” Gwen smiles slightly. “If you cared so much about your nephew, where were you when Uther was sick and Arthur was king in all but name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Agravaine clenches his jaw. Gwen sees a flicker of movement in his eyes. She doesn’t like whatever expression he begins to wear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Admit you killed the king,” Lord Agravaine says through gritted teeth. “Do you dare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin doesn’t miss a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. I killed Uther and I know you wanted him dead, just as much as I did.” He says. “I wanted him dead because he killed countless witches and warlocks like me for something they couldn’t control. You wanted him dead, because you wanted to manipulate Arthur and rule in his stead.” Merlin shrugs. “You killed him as much as I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whispers of ‘he admitted it!’ and ‘he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>kill the king’ erupts among the spectators. Gwen sees someone move beside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You killed my father.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s said matter-of-factly. It wasn’t even said that loudly, but the room goes silent. The spectators don’t whisper, Merlin has no rebuttal, Lord Agravaine doesn’t even gloat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur passes Gwen. Taking slow, hesitant steps towards Merlin and his uncle. Then, Percival sneaks in behind him and he stands beside Gwen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen sees Merlin turn to face the king for the first time in four years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He admitted it!” Lord Agravaine shouts, he’s smiling brightly. “He denied it for so long but now, he’s back to rub it in your face, nephew! To reopen old wounds and to kill—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out,” Arthur interrupts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Agravaine’s beams, “Guards! Arrest Merlin and get him out of my nephew’s sight!” His knights make their way across the room and Merlin throws up his hands; sending one of the knight’s named Mark flying into a wall with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t touch me,” Merlin hisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HOW DARE YOU USE MAGIC IN THE PRESENCE OF THE KING?” Lord Agravaine screams at the top of his lungs. He goes to charge at Merlin, trying to unsheathe the rarely used sword on his hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur steps between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out,” Arthur repeats. “Get out!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Agravaine tilts his head in confusion. “N-Nephew, a-are you talking to—” he shakes his head. “No, you must be confused.” Lord Agravaine spots Gwen across the room. “Guinevere, come bring my nephew back to his room. He is unwell and confused.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not confused,” Arthur says. “I want you to get out and let me speak to him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Agravaine laughs in disbelief. “What? He’ll kill you, Arthur. Please,” he tries to grab Arthur’s arm and Arthur rips it from him. “Nephew!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am your king! You may have been keeping my seat warm but it is still mine!” Arthur’s voice is trembling. “Now get out! Everyone!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone waits with bated breath, watching Lord Agravaine’s face grow to an even darker shade of red before he storms out of the room. His black cloak billows behind him and as he approaches the door, he waves his arms and the spectators near the door disperse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Percival grabs Gwen’s arm, pulling her away before she’s ushered out with the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Agravaine’s knights followed their lord, while the Knights of the Round Table linger. Gwen wants nothing more than to go to Arthur to make sure he is okay, she wants to know how he found out - had Percival told him and brought him here? Or had Arthur heard the bells and his curiosity had gotten the better of him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur is still facing the throne with his back to Merlin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwaine is the first to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you mean us, too?” Gwaine asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur looks at him and Gwen can’t see the look Arthur gave him, but Gwaine nods and walks away. Leon and Elyan follow him, and once they reach the door, Percival - still holding onto Gwen - exits the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Leon and Elyan grab the handles of the large, wooden doors, Gwen sees Arthur finally turn to Merlin—and the doors close.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>super ooc because i haven't watched merlin in like, two years. </p><p>let me know what you thought! i love feedback!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Part Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning. Graphic description of blood and injury. </p><p>Merlin + Gwen's POV in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They fell in love in the heat of summer. Beneath vibrant green aspen leaves and the humid, sticky air. It started without either of them realising; anger turned to worry and desperation into love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were looking for Morgana, there had been reports that she’d been seen in the thick wooded area before the border. Merlin thought better of going, it would leave Camelot vulnerable and susceptible to attack. He told Arthur as much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, from the moment they left the castle gates and through the Darkling Woods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur refused to hear reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, we are not far from the city. It is not as if we are in another kingdom,” Arthur said. “Morgana’s army would have to pass right by us to get into the city. If we engage in a fight, the archers will spot us from the towers and ring the bells. Gods, it’s like you don’t even think sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are in the thickest part of the forest. How will they see us?” Merlin hissed. “We left our horses back at camp. If we run, it will still take us an hour to get to the horses and then hours before we reach the city! To get into the Citadel, it could take us a day at most if all goes well. A lot can happen in a day. I don’t think we should be out here. We’re safer there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>safer in the Citadel?” Arthur huffed with annoyance. “You’ve been complaining the entire time. You are the only one here not skilled with a sword. Should a battle happen, you are the only one with no way to protect yourself. If you are that concerned about yourself, go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin’s mouth fell open and he shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, this isn’t about me—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, at this point I do not care what fictional attack you’ve created to frighten yourself. All you are doing is worrying like a maiden and frankly, it’s getting on my nerves. Go back to the city and annoy someone else.” Arthur said. Merlin’s jaw clenched and emotion ran through him. “And it’s Sire, to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knights looked between the prince and the manservant until Merlin finally nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right. I’ll go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been attacked upon returning to their makeshift camp; a rogue witch had been waiting for Arthur and got Merlin instead. She’d cursed him with a spell he’d never heard of, causing his heart to turn to ice. t got to the point that Merlin couldn’t move without his body convulsing from the cold inside of him. His skin was as cold as new snow and his lips were turning blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing Gaius could have done to rid the curse from his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, it was Arthur that saved him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frost steadily grew on the pale expanse of Merlin’s skin and Arthur tore Merlin’s shirt from his body. He did the same for his own and pressed the warm expanse of his chest against Merlin’s back. It hurt to have something so warm on his body; and sleep did not come easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, lulled by Arthur’s soft breathing against his neck, it came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he woke, his cheeks were pink and the frost had melted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin doesn’t know why he thinks of this as Arthur is sending his uncle out of the throne room. He doesn’t know why he thinks of the way Arthur’s arms felt around him that night and how he woke up that morning with his head resting on Arthur’s chest as Agravaine storms out of the room and with his knights close behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Knights of the Round Table linger for a moment and Gwaine asks Arthur if he wanted them to leave as well. Arthur doesn’t say anything and Gwaine, Leon and Elyan take that as a yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin feels anxiety as Arthur turns to face him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he has changed so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has lost so much weight, his cheeks are hollower than Merlin has ever seen and he’s lost the bulky muscle that had become synonymous with Arthur as a person. His red tunic is loose on him; his collarbone juts out from the collar as if there’s no meat between the bone and the skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur blinks at him; his eyes look tired and watery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think,” Arthur begins, “I don’t think you killed my father on purpose. Whatever you say, you wouldn’t do that.” The latter half of that sentence goes unspoken but Merlin can hear it echo of the walls. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he hears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin folds his arms across his chest and breathes a heavy sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is, um,” Arthur wets his lips, “is Kay with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That throws Merlin off. He only knows of one Kay and can’t fathom why Arthur would be asking about him of all things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kay?” he repeats slowly. “Your squire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Arthur deflates slightly, “I thought perhaps he had…” he shakes his head. “Never mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king shrinks into himself and walks over to the throne. Merlin expects him to sit on it, but he chooses to sit on the stairs leading up to it instead. Arthur clasps his hands over his lap and stares at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin remains where he is. He watches Arthur fidget with his fingers and the fabric of his trousers. Outside, he can hear the remaining crowd outside lingering by the citadel walls. He knows he is at the root of every whisper and rumour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Gwaine tell you why you needed to come back?” Arthur asks quietly, breaking the silence between them. “Do you… do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Merlin replies. “Gwaine didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur makes a noise that sounds almost like a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t,” he says mockingly. “He does now, then I suppose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin clears his throat. “He was worried. They all are. They deserve to know what’s happening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I should’ve told them,” Arthur mumbles so softly that Merlin has to take a step closer to hear him. “How can I tell them when I don’t even understand what’s happening to me?” He looks up at Merlin, tears streaming down his face. “What is it? Magic? I’m magic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin feels his eyes starting to prickle with emotion. He looks away from Arthur and towards the Pendragon emblem on the tapestries lining the walls. He remembers once when he pulled Arthur aside and they hid behind the tapestry for hours, kissing and whispering like they were the only two in the world. It had been stupid and they had been blinded by each other. If they hadn’t been so wrapped up with each other, maybe Merlin would have seen the signs. He should’ve done his job and kept an eye on Arthur like he was destined to do. Instead, he decided it would be a good idea to fall in love and kiss the Crown Prince.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think…” Merlin starts to speak and stops to swallow the lump forming at the back of his throat. “You were born from magic. I don’t think Nimueh did it on purpose. When you were conceived, she didn’t hate your father. If anything, she was his greatest ally. Unless she foresaw Uther’s betrayal, I don’t think she did this intentionally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, why now?” Arthur sounds broken. “Every time I close my eyes, I see sparks firing from my fingers. I see my men cowering before me. I hurt people without even touching them. When my eyes open, the candles in my room have been lit and it’s the middle of the night. My curtains catch and my room fills with smoke.” Arthur looks positively haunted. “This is what Morgana went through, is it not? I remember the fires, her nightmares…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It isn’t the same,” Merlin says. “Morgana is a Seer and a High Priestess. Magic comes in differently for different people and at different times. For me, it was from birth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am thirty. Does magic wait thirty years?” Arthur stands and comes towards him. “Please, help me make sense of this. I asked for Gwaine to find you because I need you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin purses his lips, emotion still prickling at the corner of his eyes. Arthur comes even closer and touches his arm; tears pool in the base of Merlin’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers almost telling Arthur about his magic, a few days before Uther’s death. They’d been at his river, celebrating Arthur’s birthday together where there were no prying eyes. He’d wanted to tell him, to say “Arthur, I’m magic and I always have been. I’ve only ever used it for you, to protect you, to protect Camelot. Please don’t hate me.” He should’ve said it but he was a coward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin?” Arthur asks quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” Merlin says. “I don’t know why you’ve gotten magic. I have asked sorcerers and druids alike, and they can’t tell me a thing. I don’t have the answers you want from me.” He sighs and places his hand over Arthur’s, still on his arm.“But I’ll… I’ll try to find them. I am going to help you. But I need you to understand that I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>forget that night or what you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur swallows and drops his arm. He nods and steps away from Merlin, his hands fidget at his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I,” Arthur closes his eyes tightly. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have banished you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anger flares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I’m upset because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>banished </span>
  </em>
  <span>me?” he laughs harshly. He wants to punch that confused look off of Arthur’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud noise and shouting outside brings Merlin back to the purpose of his being there. Arguing with Arthur about that night isn’t going to get them anywhere. Arthur glances away. Merlin wants to know what he’s thinking; if he feels regret, or if he feels the punishment was just. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat. “I’ll stay in Camelot for as long as it needs to figure out why you’re magic. While I am here, I can’t be constantly harassed by your uncle. Pardon me and my crimes. I will need protection for my friends. If I need help, I can’t have my friends burned at the stake for entering the city at my request.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And finally, you need to take back the crown. Agravaine is not the king of Camelot. You are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Done.” Arthur’s response is automatic. “All of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other side of the door, they both hear Agravaine’s voice. There’s a scuffle and something thuds against the oak, shaking the two doors on their hinges. Arthur looks petrified. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, he can’t know,” he says frantically. “He can’t know why you’re here, what’s wrong with me… He can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pressure on the door grows. Merlin can see it opening, the sliver of crack and the voices get louder. Arthur starts to hyperventilate at the sight. When Agravaine gets that door open, Arthur will be in no position to overpower him. He doesn’t want to have to use magic to get out of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin looks quickly at Arthur, his mind racing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arrest me,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Arthur blinks wildly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make them think you’re throwing me in the dungeon,” Merlin says fast. “Show your uncle you are not some child in need of a wetnurse. Do it now Arthur.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A little late for that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Merlin thinks to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the doors succumb to the force behind them and Agravaine’s knights come barrelling in. Merlin sees Leon being held against the wall in the hall, the others are gone. This isn’t good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur!” He almost shouts and suddenly, he is thrown to the ground with Arthur’s knee pressing into his back. His arms twist behind him and Arthur pins them against his spine; despite this, Merlin isn’t in pain. Arthur’s grip is gentle and his knee feels barely there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorcerer!” Arthur screams above him, “Whatever curses you’re trying to cast on me, good luck doing so in the dungeons! Come dawn, you will be put to death for your crimes against Camelot, killing my father and conspiring to murder the king! Ser Guy, Ser Damian, take this sorcerer down to the dungeons.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two knights make their way across the room and as they do, Arthur hunches over Merlin and whispers softly, “Don’t let them hurt you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he’s upright once more. Arthur manhandles him and pushes him into the two knights. The first knight has ginger hair, short and cropped close to his head, and freckles across his pale almost sunburnt skin. He has a slim build but the way he takes Merlin’s arm from Arthur makes Merlin grimace. The second knight has shoulder length black hair and pale skin, free of blemishes, and a sharp nose. He’s taller than the first knight but Merlin can already judge which of the two is a higher rank from the way the second knight lingers behind his companion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave him unharmed,” says Arthur sternly to them both. “I want him to be able to scream tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two knights take Merlin out of the room and into the hall, where Leon has now vanished. Agravaine stands near the doorway, his hands are on his hips and is smug as the knights bring Merlin past him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“King Arthur said to leave him unharmed,” says the first knight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agravaine smiles sweetly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My nephew is unwell and we cannot trust his judgment. Do what you will with the traitor,” Agravaine tells them quietly before he makes his way into the throne room to Arthur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin clenches his teeth. Fighting them now will do neither him or Arthur any good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets the two knights drag him to the dungeons. Neither say a word but their grips tighten as they go, Merlin knows there’ll be bruises there tomorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dungeons haven’t changed much in four years. Still moldy and dank, with the thick scent of feces and rot. The two knights throw Merlin into an empty cell far from the populated ones, and Merlin lands roughly on the uneven stone floors. There is dry straw strewn on the floor and a small bucket in the corner of the room; there is no bed and the window is so small that Merlin can barely see the light from the outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he’s the bloody warlock we’ve been looking for?” says the first knight as he leans against the metal bars of the cell. “Little on the weak looking side if you ask me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lord Agravaine says he is the strongest sorcerer known to man,” the second says to the first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very strong right now, is he?” the first knight comes into the cell, and towers over Merlin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The king said to leave me unharmed,” Merlin says to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knight crouches down, grabs Merlin by the chin and smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t take my orders from the king.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin doesn’t have a chance to cast before the first knight’s fist collides with his nose - and everything goes dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a fire somewhere. He can smell the thick smoke, feel the heat against his skin. When he opens his eyes, they only fall shut and he can only see slivers of burning embers around him. Is this it? Is this him being burned alive? Knocked unconscious only to awaken the moment his flesh turns crisp and melts from the bone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There isn’t any screaming. Not a single person is calling for his innocence. Perhaps the crowd in the courtyard is watching on happily in silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The murderer of King Uther has been executed, as he should’ve been four years ago,” they’ll say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe they’re right. No matter what he says, he did kill Uther that night. It was unintentional, but it was his magic that condemned Uther to an eternal slumber. He’s the reason Uther’s heart stopped pumping and the life faded from his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire rages on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to see once more and this time, his eyelids linger open for a split second longer. He’s in the throne room; the tapestries are aflame and flames lick the golden stitching of the dragons. They’ve come to life, off the fabric and fly around the room, breathing fire across the stone floors and down on the throne itself. The goose down cushioning bursts into flames of blue and orange. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There has to be a way to calm the blaze. Merlin tries his magic but it fizzles out of him like a kettle too cold to boil. His strength is fading, he can’t feel his arms or legs. The crackling of the fire is getting close, his skin feels like it’s been laid on a heated pan - bubbling and spitting like fresh bacon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragons will reach him soon; with their large wings and molten breath. If only he could speak to them, have them hear reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes open and he sees a silhouette at the end of the room, near the throne. A dragon has perched itself on the person’s shoulder, its claws clinging to the red fabric of the tunic. Merlins sees a hand reach up and they pet the dragon; it preens and tucks itself against the silhouette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“P-Please…” Merlin manages. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of glowing eyes shine at him from across the room. Pain rips through Merlin and the flames catch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bites at her lip worriedly. They have all been sitting ducks for days, ever since Ser Guy and Ser Damian took Merlin down to the dungeons. Lord Agravaine had set up a guard, stopping anyone from going down to see him, including Arthur. The king has tried several times to visit him, but Lord Agravaine has stopped him at every turn. The most Arthur has been able to do is delay the execution by a week, much to his uncle’s annoyance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Lord Agravaine has begun to prepare the wood for the stake in which Merlin will be burnt alive on. As far as the people know, Merlin has been imprisoned for his crimes and there have been celebrations in the streets. Lord Agravaine has even planned a festival to be held after the execution; with jousting and a tournament, with Arthur expected to attend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Already, the lords and ladies of Camelot had started to arrive. Some Gwen recognises from past tourneys and others she has never seen before. There is even a lord from Bernicia, a far away kingdom to the north. The serving girls couldn’t stop talking about him, the handsome Lord Thomas of Bernicia. Gwen’s seen him around, she can’t help but agree with the girls, but there’s something about him she can’t quite place. Daisy has talked her ear off about the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but I’m sure no man can compare to the king,” Daisy always says and nudges Gwen’s elbow while she does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen is sitting in Arthur’s room, alongside Arthur himself, Percival, and Leon. Arthur is sitting at his desk, looking forlorn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sire,” Leon interrupts the silence. “What do you want us to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Arthur does is sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps if we,” Leon swallows, “attack the guard, render him unconscious. We can go down to the cells and find him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve already thought of that,” Arthur says tiredly. “If you do that, you’ll be in the dungeons too. There’s no point. I-I think we must wait it out. My uncle cannot keep Merlin hidden forever. The day of the,” Arthur closes his eyes, “the day of the execution, we can see him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The day of?” Percival uncrosses his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur reopens his eyes. “Have you all forgotten Merlin is a sorcerer? H-He is fine. I’m sure of it. I told him to not let them hurt him. My uncle, if anything, h-has confined him with chains. I’m sure of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen doesn’t think he sounds very sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they have…” Leon trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then my uncle will answer for it,” Arthur says firmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Percival clears his throat. “Gwaine had the idea to have himself arrested. Perhaps if he can get himself down there, he can find Merlin. You know he is not afraid to cause trouble.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lord Agravaine isn’t stupid,” Leon says. “He’ll know what Gwaine is doing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur leans back in his chair, “Stop with the ideas. There’s no point. We will wait.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen watches as Arthur reaches a hand out to the candle flickered on the table. His hand hovers over the flame, almost licking the palm of his hand. Then, she blinks, and the flame is out. Arthur stares at the now unlit candle and pushes himself up from the desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon and Percival share a glance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-Sire,” Leon begins, “about why Merlin is here. Gwaine, he, told us some things we thought we should discuss with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s head shoots up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon wets his lips. “With Merlin imprisoned, there isn’t anything we can learn from him about your… condition. Gwaine said there is another you can speak to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Arthur says and turns away from them, to the window. “Leave me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lord,” Leon presses, “we just saw you snuff the flame of that candle without touching it. We need to talk about this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not right now.” Arthur clenches his fists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When will we get another chance?” Leon takes a step towards the king. “If not now, when? When Lord Agravaine is listening through the doorway? When Merlin is being burned alive?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is right, Arthur,” Gwen says softly. “We know you’re afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cannot begin to understand how I am feeling,” Arthur spits. “I told you all to leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then help us understand!” Gwen urges him. “We want to help” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur slams his fist down on the window sill. “Stop! I don’t want to talk any further about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two knights sigh and hang their heads low. Wordlessly, they leave the room, but Gwen stays. The doors close as she walks up behind Arthur, she places her hand on the middle of his back and rests her cheek against his shoulder. He’s shaking slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur?” she presses. When the shaking worsens, she realises he’s crying. She pulls him away from the window and hugs him, his arms come up to hold her. He breathes heavily. “Tell me, Arthur.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t think I’m trying,” Arthur mumbles. “I try to make sense of things and then they ask, and I lose all that I’ve finally understood. Merlin doesn’t even understand, and now how am I to ask him when I’ve thrown him in the dungeons?” He holds her tighter. “They blame me for his being there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen pulls away, frowning. “No they don’t. They’re just worried. About Merlin and about you.” She doesn’t tell him that they’re worried about the crash. Arthur hadn’t left his room for months, now he’s attending council meetings and watching the knights train. He’s actually being seen outside of the Citadel. He’s going to crash soon, and hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur steps away from her and pulls his tunic over his head. He throws it to a pile building on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My head hurts all the time,” he tells her. “It’s like a boil, waiting to burst. The only time it ever feels better is when…” he looks at her. “When things like what happened with the candle, happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She asks, “Did you tell Merlin that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His expression darkens. “I was hoping he would give me a different answer, than what he had.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen sees his eyes well with tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have magic,” Arthur says and Gwen feels the air leave her. She’s known for some time, though she never dared to say it out loud. She remembers Morgana’s dreams and the fires caused as a result. When Gwaine left to find Merlin, it solidified her theory and upon his return, she knew it was true. “Somehow. Merlin said h-he didn’t understand why. But he’s going to help me. He has friends to help, too. Morgana, maybe. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks over to the candle on his desk. He puts his hand over it, like he had done earlier, and nothing happens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t even do it when I want to</span>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur is interrupted by sudden, incessant knocking on his door. Arthur looks at Gwen, and then back at the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” he calls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-Uh,” they hear through the wood, “it’s Daisy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur blinks. “Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Gwen says to him, she goes to the door and opens it. On the other side, Daisy is standing red faced and on the verge of tears. She’s holding Aoife, who is struggling to still and shouting angrily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy found Aoife the day Gwen had asked her to keep an eye on her house. Under the bed, where she’d told Aoife to hide. Gwen lied and told her Aoife was a cousin put into her care after her parents death. It was an easy enough lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!” Daisy says. “She had a fit and I couldn’t get her to settle. She begged for me to bring her here. She said she wanted to see—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur comes up behind Gwen and opens the door further. He takes in the chambermaid and the young girl in her arms. At the sight of Arthur, Aoife’s eyes go wide and she stops wiggling, her mouth hangs open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good evening,” he says, confusion threaded through his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“King Arthur,” Aoife says quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles slightly, “Uh, hello. It is quite late. Perhaps, Rose, you can bring your little… friend back in the day. Or visit Gwen at her house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen bites back a smile and whispers, “Daisy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daisy,” Arthur says quickly and smiles at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy frowns, her eyes find Gwen’s. Gwen can almost hear the thoughts in her friend’s head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How does Arthur not know who she is</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, well, sorry, my lord. For interrupting your evening. Won’t happen again,” Daisy starts to curtsy and Aoife starts wiggling like a waterless fish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“NO!” Aoife screams at the top of her lungs. She keeps screaming until Daisy drops her. “Can’t you feel it?” she shouts at Arthur. “Can’t you hear him?”  She looks up at him, her eyes study him intensely. “Merlin,” she says and Gwen feels Arthur stiffen beside her, “he’s been calling you. Can’t you hear him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs his hand and Arthur jerks back, as if burnt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” he asks the girl. “That noise. Gwen, you heard it, right?” He sounds desperate. “The screaming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aoife grabs him again and Arthur eyes burst with gold. The candle on the desk lights, the fireplace bursts with hot flames and the windows shatter. The room fills with screams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is Merlin’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen covers her ears, trying to block out the sound. The grip it has on her is strong like a vice. The entire city must be able to hear it. Daisy is on the ground, her hands covering her ears and pale like milk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin,” Arthur whispers and the screams stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>T</span>
  <span>here’s a gust of wind and Arthur, running past them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur?” Gwen calls after him. “Arthur!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glass shards fall from Aoife’s hair as she runs after him. Gwen is quick to follow her, leaving Daisy in the doorway, staring off into nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The castle is eerily quiet as they run. Only the sounds of their slippered feet fill the stone halls, and the distant sounds of Arthur ahead of them. Gwen hasn’t felt this way since Merlin’s banishment. Like the air itself was electrified. She knows where they’re running to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dungeons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart is in her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reach the entryway, the guard, usually standing by with his spear, is dead on the floor - stabbed by his own spear. Aoife is standing next to him, eyes fixed to the blood pooling on the stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Gods,” Gwen covers her mouth with her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen feels as though she could throw up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aoife, go find help,” she says, voice shaking. “There’s a man, his name is Gaius. Find him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aoife says firmly. “Arthur needs me.” She runs through the blood, it sticks to the bottom of her feet and Gwen sees the trail it leaves behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen swears and steps over the body. She makes her way down to the cold, moldy cells. It’s even quieter down here. She can hear her own blood rushing through her and Aoife some steps ahead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are no candles lit in the long, twisting halls of the dungeons. Gwen squints in the darkness, peering through each cell and looking for Arthur. Ahead of her, she can barely make out Aoife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This way,” Aoife says, and Gwen follows the sound of the girl’s feet on the uneven stone floors. It grows so dark, Gwen reaches out and feels along the walls. Rusted metal moves under her fingertips as she follows the girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s cold and wet. Water soaks through her slippers and shivers run up her spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur?” she dares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s then she hears a choked sob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Aoife takes Gwen’s hand and pulls her into a cell. Something warm seeps through her shoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Light suddenly fills the room. An orb of sunlight floats to the ceiling, illuminating Merlin’s battered body and the blood pooling on the cell floors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Arthur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I can’t,” Arthur says. “I can’t stop it.” His hands are pressed into Merlin’s stomach, Gwen sees blood gurgling through the cracks in his fingers. “He’s dying. Gwen, he’s dying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin looks like a tattered ragdoll. His leg is bent in an unnatural way, his wrists are bloodied and bruised. His face is covered in scratches, some only minor but others are far too deep. And his eyes, both have been beaten black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen kneels beside Arthur, she feels for a pulse. It’s barely there and Merlin is as cold as snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is an impossible amount of blood coming from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Girl,” Arthur turns to Aoife, “do something. Help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” she says. “I brought you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do anything!” Arthur is frantic. “I’m useless! I can’t even fucking light a candle, how am I to stop the bleeding!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t know,” she hiccups. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s bring him to Gaius,” Gwen says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll die if I move him,” Arthur snaps. “Look at him, Gwen. He’s broken.” Arthur presses harder on Merlin’s chest. “I can’t find where the blood is coming from. He hasn’t been stabbed, or cut, it’s like…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen tears open Merlin’s shirt. Blood oozes out of him and she rubs at it, trying to find the wound but the more she rubs, the more it comes out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, come on!” Arthur shouts. “Girl! Do something! He’ll die!” Aoife eyes flood with tears. “He can’t die, please, do something!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen feels a sob rip out of her. She sits back, her hand coming to cover her mouth. Merlin’s blood stains her face red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please. You can’t. Don’t fucking die on me, Merlin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hovers his hand over Merlin, like he’d done with the candle. Gwen watches as he jerks the hand several times, grunting with frustration after the seventh time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur stops and drops his chin to his chest. He pets Merlin’s hair, “Please,” he whispers “You’ve only just come back.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the really late update. my neighbours house caught fire, now my house smells like shit, so i'm wrote this in a hotel. </p><p>happy turkey day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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